


How Unfortunate

by BlueNightmare



Category: Senjou no Valkyria | Valkyria Chronicles
Genre: Bondage, F/M, Filming, Gags, Humiliation, Kidnapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 13:48:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11624826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueNightmare/pseuds/BlueNightmare
Summary: Saying no to Randy is never a wise move.





	How Unfortunate

“I’m very flattered, but I just don’t feel that way about you...”

Those words were all it had taken to render Randy Hamsun utterly speechless for the first time in his life. 

He had never been rejected before, not ever. As vice-president of the Lanseal Academy student council and the nicest person on campus, the handsome young engineer enjoyed the respect and admiration of his fellow cadets, as he had in school back in his hometown. He had never been short of girlfriends back then, when he had felt like taking one, but now... this girl...

It was not that he had truly been interested in Coleen Celsius, unlike the dozens of other young suitors who seemed to swarm around her at every waking moment. His head had not been turned by her considerable beauty, nor had her cheerful and charming nature bewitched him. Her cute little giggles were not music to his ears, and he was impervious to the brunette lancer’s pretty little smile. None of these were the thing that had drawn him to her.

No, it was her enormous popularity that had put her in his sights. Coleen was well-liked throughout the school, just as Randy was, and it was this reputation that had caught the blond boy’s attention. The prestige that a relationship with the most popular girl in Lanseal would bring to his upcoming council presidency bid. It would have been perfect.

But she had turned him down.

In that moment, color rising to his cheeks, Randy’s silver tongue might as well have been made of concrete. Somehow he had managed to recover his senses enough to save his dignity, offering an understanding smile and a claim of regretful acceptance before retreating to the safety of his room in the student dormitory. On the outside he was still the calm, friendly Randy that everyone in the college knew and loved, a paragon spoken of with only the warmest words by all who knew him.

On the inside, he was furious and already plotting his revenge. This was the true Randy Hamsun, hidden beneath the facade of smiles and pleasantries; a cold-blooded sociopath fueled only by his ambitions, using his nice-guy persona as a tool to manipulate those beneath him. He had planned to use Coleen as well, the pretty lancer simply another sacrifice on his road to triumph... but she had thrown a wrench in the works that he had not foreseen. She had dared to refuse his advances.

She would regret making an enemy of him... but Randy knew that he would have to be careful in the way he exacted his vengeance.

After all, he had an image to maintain.

~ ~ ~

Randy had always possessed a knack for co-ordination.

The talent had served him well as the vice president of the student council, and it would surely be even more useful to him when his capture of the presidency was complete, but for the moment it was a very different task to which he would turn his skills. A much simpler affair, though one he expected to be almost as gratifying as his inevitable electoral victory; he would humiliate Coleen Celsius in front of the entire school.

It had taken some thinking to come up with the best method to take his revenge on the carefree young lancer, and he had entertained many possibilities, from ensuring that she failed her tests to causing her physical harm. In the end he had chosen humiliation because he had calculated that it would hurt Coleen the most, social butterfly that she was, to know that every person in Lanseal from cadets to staff had borne witness to her shame.

But how to go about it? This was the next question that faced the clever young engineer, but the answers did not elude him for long.

The main problem had been how to get Coleen alone. The chatty girl was always surrounded by some assortment of her many friends, each one of them seemingly more vapid than the last, an impenetrable shield of chattering imbeciles. It seemed that she was never by herself, and to Randy’s increasing irritation, never silent either.

Fortunately, the solution had not been as difficult as he had feared. A little knowledge of the upcoming schedule, a visit to the armory while nobody else was there and a little tampering with Coleen’s anti-tank lance, and he was all set. Simple for an engineer of his talent, he gloated as he joined the rest of his class at the drill grounds that afternoon for target practice.

Coleen missed almost every single shot.

The drill instructor had reacted exactly how Randy had known he would. Disgusted by the hapless girl’s appalling performance, the cantankerous old soldier had unleashed a blistering reprimand upon her, verbally tearing her apart in front of the class. Such carelessness would get her comrades killed on the battlefield, he had roared mere inches from her cringing face, and there was no acceptable excuse. By the end of the tirade Coleen was half in tears, and for a moment Randy considered leaving her punishment at that, rather than continuing with his plan.

Such generous notions passed quickly.

While the rest of the class was soon dismissed to attend their evening meal in the cafeteria, Coleen was made to remain at the drill range and practice her marksmanship for the remainder of the evening, the standard punishment for particularly inept performances. Her class could live or die on her ability to destroy rebel tanks, the instructor had barked, his booming voice still audible to the students leaving the training grounds, and if she couldn’t improve her aim very quickly she would have no future at Lanseal. Not even in Class G.

~ ~ ~

That evening, when Coleen finally returned to the armory to return her equipment after hours of extra training, she found the building in a state of eerie quiet. The facility seemed to be completely deserted. At this late hour there was rarely any need for the equipment that was stored here, unless an urgent mission were to come up out of the blue.

Coleen was grateful for the solitude tonight, for she was in no mood to speak to her classmates. The memory of the instructor’s furious lecture was still fresh in her mind, as was the crushing shame that had accompanied it. She had felt the eyes of her friends locked upon her as she cringed under the force of the scathing reprimand, and she had known what many of them were thinking. Their lives were in her hands on the battlefield as much as she was in theirs, and if she wasn’t up to the task of hitting her targets when they needed her to, they could all be mown down in an instant.

There were tears in her eyes as she closed her locker on her anti-tank lance, securing the weapon where it belonged. The thought had crossed her mind that something had caused it to malfunction, but that thought did little to mollify her feelings of failure. Maintaining her weapon was as much her responsibility as firing it, and tonight she just didn’t have the heart to check it. Maybe tomorrow, when her mind and heart were clearer, she would examine it in detail. Just one night wouldn’t hurt.

A metallic _clunk_ echoed through the room, heavier than the sound of a locker door.

Coleen jumped, startled by the sudden sound. Who else was here this late? Glancing around the room she could see nobody else, but there were several rows of lockers between her and the door to obscure her view. “Hello?” she called tentatively, hoping that it wasn’t one of her friends. The Class G armory was at the very rear of the building; perhaps the sound had come from the arsenal of another class. “Is someone there?”

Silence was the only response. Not so much as a footstep greeted Coleen’s ears. Maybe she had imagined it; the idea that her mind may be playing tricks on her tonight was not outlandish. Relieved that it wasn’t somebody she knew, still unwilling to face her classmates, she turned the key in her locker and began to head for the exit. Already she was looking forward to the seclusion of her dorm room and her bed.

To her surprise, the heavy iron door separating Class G’s locker from the rest of the facility was closed.

Coleen paused, her forehead scrunching in thought. She was sure that she had left it open on her way in. That could have been her imagination as well - she was hardly in the best state of mind tonight - but it would account for the sound she had heard. Had someone else come down here this late at night? Why?

Her ears pricked at the sound of boots scuffing against the floor, but before Coleen could react, a pair of strong arms seized her body from behind. Her screams were muffled by a suspiciously damp cloth that was abruptly clamped over her face, reeking of a sweetness that sapped away her strength and dulled her senses into darkness.

Beneath the hood of the rebel soldier’s uniform he had stolen from the armory a few days ago, Randy smirked his satisfaction. That had been too easy.

~ ~ ~

The old campus, isolated from the rest of Lanseal and as grim and silent as the grave, had been the perfect place for Randy to bring the unconscious Coleen. Completely deserted even in the daytime, the large, maze-like building had a reputation across the academy for being haunted, and most students and even faculty stayed well away from it, especially after the old Headmaster was rumored to have committed suicide within its walls following the incident in August...

Such idiotic superstitions were of no concern to Randy. He carried his slumbering classmate into the derelict campus, descending the stairs into the basement level, then retrieved the still-operational ragnite lamp he had scrounged from the abandoned equipment left strewn about the building and switched it on. It was time to get to work.

The first step of his plan was to undress Coleen, but it was her humiliation that was foremost in his mind, not his own sexual gratification. His hands worked at the buttons of her uniform as methodically as they handled a rifle in battle, completely devoid of passion even as his fingers grazed against the soft swells of her breasts, and soon he had her blue Lanseal-emblem blazer entirely unbuttoned, revealing the white dress shirt and tie she wore beneath. Slipping the blazer from Coleen’s limp and unresisting body, Randy removed her shoes and socks from her feet next, but decided to leave her distinctive rose hairband in place upon her head. It was distinctive enough to serve his purposes, for she was never seen without it...

He had been afraid that Coleen would awaken when he began to undress her, but the chestnut-haired girl remained motionless and silent even now, a peaceful expression on her comely features. The chloroform he had stolen from the infirmary had done its job well.

Encouraged and relieved, Randy continued to strip the sleeping lancer of her uniform. He unfastened and removed her tie, tossing it onto the growing pile of her clothing on the floor, then set to unbuttoning her shirt as he had with her blazer. He found himself working quicker than before despite Coleen’s continued unconsciousness, still concerned that she would awaken before he was ready, but this time it was slightly more difficult to ignore her chest as his hands brushed against it, the odd feeling in his trousers briefly pushing through his cruel demeanor. For all his cold-blooded ambition, Randy was still young and male and he could not deny that his fellow student was rather attractive, when she wasn’t regurgitating her brainless chatter...

...No. Such lustful thoughts were a distraction, the sort of thing best left to Coleen’s many other suitors. Randy was above this and above _her_ , or at least that was what he told himself as he averted his eyes from her half-exposed breasts and finished unbuttoning her shirt, then reached for the waistband of her plaid miniskirt. He could take all sorts of liberties with his classmate’s unresisting body, but it had never been sex that he had wanted from her. Stupid little Coleen had merely been a stepping stone on the path of Randy’s ambitions, and her usefulness had come to an end the moment she had refused him.

If she was not useful to him, then she had no value and could be broken whenever it amused him.

~ ~ ~

When Coleen finally came to after a full hour of unconsciousness, Randy was there to observe her awakening.

As her senses slowly began to return, accompanied by a pounding headache from the chloroform, the pretty lancer struggled to remember what had happened before she had closed her eyes. It felt as if she were sitting in a chair, rather than being safely buried beneath the covers of her bed. Had she fallen asleep while studying? What had she been studying again...?

Groaning in discomfort, she attempted to move her body from the awkward position in which it had been arranged... but one by one, her limbs met resistance. Her legs refused to budge from where they rested, pressed hard against the cold metal legs of the chair, and her arms were stretched behind the seat, keeping her back pressed flat against the wooden backrest. Her wrists were tightly crossed, and something was keeping them that way, almost as if they had been... tied... together...

The shock jolted her memory, and all of a sudden Coleen recalled her visit to the armory, the mysterious sounds she had heard, the cloth pressed over her face...

_Oh no..._

Gathering her courage and preparing herself for the worst, she opened her eyes.

~ ~ ~

Randy stared back at her, his hands clasped behind his back, imperiously stoic before his prisoner. Still clad in the rebel soldier’s uniform, the mask obscuring most of his familiar face, he was practically unrecognizable to his fellow student even now that he was in front of her rather than behind. The ornamented helmet covered his distinctive golden hair from view, the plates of metal armor and elevated leather boots conspiring to disguise his body’s shape. He was anonymous to her, but the uniform was all she really needed to see.

The moment Coleen realized that she had been stripped to her underwear almost teased a smirk of satisfaction from the cold-blooded engineer, but he managed to restrain himself. As enjoyable as her averted eyes and blush-stained cheeks were, he could not abandon his act. “Your precious academy has fallen,” he hissed, his voice the only vulnerability in his rebel disguise. He spoke with a far lower, more sinister tone than he normally affected, but the engineer could not completely quash his concerns that she would recognize it.

If she had, she didn’t give any indication. Maybe he was being too paranoid... or maybe the lie he had told her had distracted her from all else.

~ ~ ~

Coleen’s eyes glimmered with doe-like fright at the revelation of Lanseal Academy’s fall, the grim reality of her situation sinking in. Not for an instant did it occur to her that her captor might be lying; the rebel costume he wore, the dingy basement chamber, the loss of her clothes and the ropes binding her to the chair all added up to one thing in her reeling mind. The traitors marshaled into rebellion by House Gassenarl had conquered Lanseal at last. All was lost.

The chill that washed over her was only partly due to the cold air that filled the room. She was on her own and in enemy hands, and the rebels were not known for treating their prisoners well.

Instinct belatedly kicked in, fear overtaking logic, and Coleen began to strain against her bonds despite having no expectations of actually finding slack in the tight loops of rope binding her body to the chair. Unfortunately, her first guess had been correct; her knees and ankles were lashed to the legs of the chair so tightly that flesh and metal were nigh inseparable, keeping her thighs spread wide apart, and her attempts to free her strictly crossed wrists brought her only more discomfort. The backrest of the chair dug painfully into her shoulder-blades as she squirmed, and it was hard not to be embarrassingly conscious of the way her frantic writhing made her half-exposed breasts bounce and shake...

Her wrists and legs stinging from the chafing of rope against skin, she gave up her struggles for the moment and tried to calm herself down. Fighting her bonds wasn’t getting her anywhere... but it was impossible to relax in this situation, with the rebel watching her every move from beneath his mask. They were soldiers on opposing sides, but before that, they were a woman and a man, and he or his allies had deliberately stripped her of her uniform while she was unconscious. She could see his malevolent gaze wandering over her helpless body, examining areas she had no wish to put on display, and her skimpy white undergarments did nothing to conceal her assets from his eyes.

 _Why did I have to wear those today of all days?_ she cursed herself, letting herself think for one blessed moment that her choice of underwear was the greatest of her problems.

The rebel continued to watch her without a word, seemingly enjoying the simple act of watching her uncovered form tremble in apprehension. The seconds wore away, every moment of quiet grating on Coleen’s fraying nerves until she could bear it no longer. She had always felt compelled to fill lulls in conversation when they arose, and the extended period of silence was only unsettling her all the more; it was unnatural to the normally cheerful girl. She had to break it, even if it meant asking questions she didn’t want the answer to.

“What are you going to do with me?”

~ ~ ~

 _She’s bought it_ , Randy realized, more relieved than he would admit to himself. He had feared that there would be some tiny detail he had failed to notice that Coleen would pick up on, but either he had done a perfect job of setting everything up, or the girl was simply too frightened or too dull to notice any inconsistencies.

Time to begin.

“You are a hostage,” he growled in his coldest voice, looming over her with as much menace as he could muster. “You and the rest of the Lanseal brats are now just an incentive for the Darcsen-lovers in Randgriz to surrender. The ones that survived, that is.”

He paused to enjoy Coleen’s horrified sob before continuing. Her tearful distress was delicious.

“Of course, we don’t expect them to just give up.” His uncertainty about his disguised voice began to fade as he sank deeper into character, even starting to enjoy himself as Coleen’s nerves collapsed. “That’s why we’re here right now, to give them a little more encouragement.”

He stepped back from her chair and let his hand wander to a stack of old crates behind him, grazing against the camera sitting atop the pile. Stealing it from the newspaper office of one Lotte Netzel had been a simple matter; she would probably never even notice it had gone.

Coleen’s wide brown eyes locked on the device, swallowing hard. “Encouragement?”

“That’s right.” Randy left the camera where it was for the moment, circling around Coleen’s chair until he was standing directly behind her. From here he could see her crossed wrists straining against the tight ropes that bound them, but coming no closer to freedom for her struggles. “I know they’ll be more motivated to save you if they know you’re being... mistreated.”

His right hand darted over her shoulder, capturing her breast in his grip, and squeezed. The sensation of her warm, soft flesh against his palm was almost as enjoyable as her screams of protest.

“No! No, please!” No matter how hard she tried to squirm away from his probing hand, there was nowhere for Coleen to go. She was firmly secured to the chair, immobile and helpless. “You don’t have to... a-aah!”

Randy’s left hand had found her other breast, his fingers groping and crushing, drawing mortified squeals from the struggling lancer. She was trembling and crying, thrashing and moaning, just as he had imagined she would. Vengeance was sweet.

That had been expected, of course, but what Randy had not anticipated was the return of his own arousal, rising in tandem with Coleen’s. It was as unwelcome to him as Coleen’s was to her - he had thought himself capable of controlling his more primal urges, even in the presence of a helpless, unclothed and admittedly very pretty girl - but the feelings within him were becoming impossible to ignore. He had wanted Coleen for her popularity, nothing more, but his body noticed her breasts heaving against her lacy bra, her slender legs as they fought the ropes lashing them to the chair’s, the loveliness of her face even flushed and in tears... or perhaps because of her distraught state.

No. He had to control himself. He could not afford to divert from his carefully planned revenge, much as he might like to throw her down on the floor and...

 _Stop it!_ he snapped to himself, only just managing to keep the words inside his mind rather than blurting them out for Coleen to hear. He had to _focus_ , had to stop thinking of her as an attractive girl and treat her like a piece of equipment. He was an engineer, an expert in manipulating things to do what he wanted. Guns, tanks... a human body should be little different. All he needed to do was concentrate on getting the responses he sought, and forget about how good she felt in his hands.

“Please stop it.” Coleen was breathing heavily now, but her struggles had almost entirely ceased. The ropes hadn’t loosened at all, Randy noted with satisfaction. “Why do you need to do this?”

“So you’ll look your best on film,” Randy growled, his fingers traveling upward and hooking under the shoulder straps of her bra. Heedless of her sobs, he slowly guided the thin bands down her arms as far as the chair would allow, then tugged the lacy cups of the bra beneath her breasts, exposing them to the cold, dank air. The sight was a torture for Randy, threatening to break his tenuous hold on self-control...

“Just take the pictures,” Coleen whispered, her eyes squeezed shut. “What more do you want?”

Randy’s fingers rubbed against her nipples in concert, teasing them to attention. “The worse you look in the pictures, the more effective they’ll be. It’s what you get for siding with that Darcsen whore Cordelia.”

“Nnngh...” Coleen had no answer for that, biting her lip as her breasts responded to his touch. Randy could tell that she had finally given up her resistance, her last hope lost.

_Suffer, you little fool. Suffer for rejecting me._

He tended her nipples for a few moments longer, reveling in her moans and gasps, then released her breasts and moved back around to the front of the chair. Coleen watched him from behind her eyelashes, fearful of what he would do to her next, but Randy gave no hint for the moment, content to watch the blushing girl as she recovered from her molestation. She had never been as beautiful to him as she was right now.

“P-please...” Coleen began after a minute had passed, her voice subdued and shaking. “Please just... let me go...”

“You’ll be freed when Randgriz surrenders, if you’re lucky.” Randy stooped in front of her chair, ready to move on. “You just do your part and that’ll happen sooner rather than later.”

His hands went to her thighs, venturing beneath the waistband of her panties. Coleen’s body trembled with the force of her choking sob, but she dared to protest no further as her last scrap of clothing was tugged down her legs to her knees, exposing what lay beneath. With her ankles and knees tied to opposite legs of her chair, she could not even close her thighs to hide herself.

A few slices from a pocket knife and Randy tore the panties from her knees, wrinkling his nose at the smell and balling them up in his hand. He stood again, leaning over Coleen, raising the undergarments towards her face. “Open your mouth.”

Her shimmering eyes widening, Coleen shook her head in denial. She would never have let him do this at the best of times, but after a long day of sitting in class and hours of sweaty training, there was no way she could allow the dirty garments into her mouth.

Randy had hardly intended to give her an actual choice in the matter. Seizing Coleen’s nose in his free hand, he clamped down on her nostrils with his thumb and forefinger, cutting off her supply of oxygen. There was now only one opening through which she could inhale, and every second brought her closer to the inevitable moment when she surrendered. He could have simply forced her jaw open, but seeing the mounting disgust and resignation in her eyes was well worth his effort...

Eventually Coleen had no choice but to open her mouth, taking in a lungful of much-needed air... and a moment later, a mouthful of stained, slightly damp cloth. Forced to taste her own tepid sweat and... and things she didn’t even want to _consider_ , she immediately attempted to spit the wadded panties back out again, only to find Randy’s hand clapping over her lips.

“Don’t,” he snarled into her ear. “I haven’t been ordered to hurt you, but I will.”

“Hmmmhh...” Coleen lowered her eyes in acknowledgement, and Randy removed his hand from her mouth, taking a moment to adjust the panties so that some of the lacy white fabric protruded from between her lips. He wanted everyone to know just what it was that gagged her.

It was about time someone shut her up.

Randy took a step back when he was done, taking in the sight he would soon commit to film. Tied fast to the chair, her bare breasts thrust forward by the uncomfortable angle of her bound arms, nipples perked, legs spread wide to reveal her womanhood, her mouth stuffed full of her underwear, tears streaming down her cheeks... this was what he had wanted from Coleen. She was humiliated, broken, exposed. Punished.

He wanted to taunt her, mock her, tell her how stupid she had been to reject his advances and that this was what she deserved, but he knew that he couldn’t. He had to keep up the illusion of being a rebel soldier, at least until they were done here. Gloating could come later, when the job was finished.

He reached for the camera.

~ ~ ~

Everything after that had been easy.

The small office set aside for Lotte’s ridiculous gossip newspaper had all the equipment that Randy needed to complete his plans. After picking the lock to gain access once again, he had developed the photographs that he had taken and printed dozens of copies of each, returned the stolen camera, and left as though he had never been there.

Returning to the old campus one final time, he chloroformed Coleen back into slumber and untied her from her chair, quickly re-dressing her in her college uniform. No longer did he entertain the thought of forcing himself on her, even as his hands brushed against her skin while he guided her breasts into her bra, even as he glimpsed her intimate folds as he slipped her skirt along her legs to her hips. He had what he truly wanted from her. Nothing else mattered.

He left her sleeping on the pathway from the old campus to the new, tossing the rebel soldier’s uniform into the nearby moat as he departed. All that was left now was to ensure that the students of Lanseal found something very special beneath their dorm room doors when they woke in the morning. They would never look at Coleen the same way again.

No-one would ever suspect him. Not friendly, popular, handsome, talented Randy, the soon-to-be student president.

_How unfortunate..._

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published elsewhere on August 27, 2013.


End file.
